Memory Box
by Nyssa Lovelace
Summary: What happens to the soul when familial ties are broken? Why does love always hurt in the end? How do we pick ourselves up when we've lost everything dear to us? When does one give up? What makes us press on? Several different characters will be included throughout the chapters. (OC-centered one-shots) I'm rating it T for safety.
1. Hide and Seek

**This is the first in several little one-shots I'm planning on doing. The first, a little game of hide and seek with Rosslyn (Georgia) and Daniel (Ireland). Enjoy!**

* * *

"Rosslyn, oh, Rossie-lyn," Daniel tip-toed through the beautiful colonial house, attempting to conceal his exact location from the little munchkin he was hunting. His voice carried through the house, echoing, so it would be hard for anyone to tell from just that. It was proving difficult to sneak on his munchkin niece. He blamed England for sending over pickpockets to the colony. Those folk were used to sneaking around and Georgia, being the representative of the colony, got those traits too.

A fluttery laugh came from over his left shoulder. He swiftly turned around to see if the little girl had decided to come out and give herself up already. It appeared not to be so, because he did not see any little strawberry blonde curls near the doorframe leading into the kitchen. But he'd find her soon. She'd already given herself up by letting him know she was nearby.

"Ya' can't escape Uncle Daniel, Ross." He put his hands on his hips – that was not a womanly thing no matter what Wales said – as an air of confidence fell over him.

Another laugh came from behind him now, and he turned once again to see if he could catch sight of the child. Again, she wasn't there. Now he was confused. How was the little munchkin getting past him so fast?

"Rosslyn, where are ya'?" He looked towards the cupboard under the stairs, wondering if it might be there that she was hiding.

"You give up?" The soft, buttery voice of a little girl came spilling forwards.

Daniel smirked as he moved closer to the cupboard. He'd let her think he gave up and then declare himself the winner because she was the one to come out of the cupboard. "Yes, ya' little munchkin, I give up."

He suddenly felt a weight come off his feet, blinked, and then looked down to the smiling child that was his niece. She'd apparently been on his feet the whole time, although when exactly she managed that, Daniel wasn't sure, maybe it was when she cornered him into a closet earlier. That still left the question of the weight though. How could he not feel the added weight and still continue moving as normal?

"I won," the round-faced child piped up, her hands outreached towards Daniel for her reward.

He stared at her for a moment, still wondering how he hadn't felt her weight – maybe he needed to tell Scotland to start feeding her more. With a nod and a dramatic heavy sigh, he admitted defeat, "Yes, Princess Rosslyn, ya' beat me. And here is your reward." He placed a candy in her hand, which was immediately stuffed into her mouth.

Having won her prize, the child proceeded to run upstairs. Daniel presumed she was going to have a tea party with her dolls again. She sure was a girl, his munchkin niece. With a shake of his, he headed to the fireplace to see if they needed more logs yet.


	2. Flowery Land

**This one-shot features Rosslyn (Georgia) and Luis (Florida). Enjoy! **

* * *

It was so bright and sunny today. Summer in the south, Rosslyn had learned in her few years of life so far, was always that way. Unfortunately, it also got quite humid as well, making her little curls stick to her forehead because of the sweat. Her dress was itchy too. Maybe this was why her Uncle Arthur did not visit her that often. Virginia and the others that lived further up north would talk about him visiting. But Rosslyn was sad to say that she had few and brief memories of her strong, empire-nation uncle.

She sighed heavily, letting the little white flower in her hand float slowly to the ground. Her attention was then placed not on the flowers that she had been admiring in the huge field that seemed to go on and on, but the pretty new doll she'd brought will her today.

"Mary, is Uncle Arthur going to visit soon?" She held the doll up to her ear, waiting for the whispers to come, as she often did with all her dolls – the corn husk one she'd made herself, the wooden doll made in Munich, and her favorite, the wax doll Mary. Mary was small, around two feet tall, and wore a bright blue dress. Her pretty light blonde hair was real human hair, Rosslyn's Uncle Arthur had said so himself. The face looked more human than any of the dolls she'd ever seen.

Now smiling, Rosslyn nodded at Mary the doll. "You're right, Mary! Uncle Arthur is going to visit soon. He promised in his last letter. And he's even bringing me new dresses!" The thought made her squeal in delight. She loved the dresses he bought for her, though he usually just had them sent over instead of bringing them himself. Sometimes they were even her favorite, French dresses, which was a big deal, because her Uncle Arthur didn't like France. "Maybe he'll bring you something too, Mary," she added, thinking back to when the doll had arrived two months ago, bearing a note and a small comb for the doll's hair.

Gently, she moved the doll's head into the crook of her arm, and started to rock it like you would baby. She wondered if her daddy used to rock her like this, and often, if her mommy did too. She'd never met her mommy, but Uncle Rhys told her she was a beautiful woman.

A gust of wind ruffled the weeds and flowers of the field, creating a sort of ripple as it passed through. Windy days were the best, Rosslyn thought, because then it wasn't so hot. The wind also brought with a whistling melody, one that reminded her of a song her daddy used to sing to her.

_Smile nae sae sweet, my bonnie babe_

_Fine flowers in the valley_

_An' ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead_

_And the green leaves they grow rarely. _

Unconsciously, she began to hum the tune to the song. The sun started to shine brighter then too, like it was suddenly listening in. But the brightness disappeared all too soon, and thinking a cloud was drifting by, Rosslyn looked up to see what shape it was. It was not a cloud, however, but a person.

Blinking at the brightness that was forming a glowing ring around the outline of the person, Rosslyn tried to figure out who it was. A tall person – a tall boy, she noticed by his short black hair. He was older than her in appearance and dressed in – wait. Wasn't that Spanish clothing?

Rosslyn jumped up, taking cautious steps away from the strange boy. She could see him better too, from a distance, and he was indeed wearing Spanish clothes. What was he doing her? This was her land, English land. The Spanish weren't supposed to be here. Was he going to attack her? The thought frightened her greatly and she gasped, taking more steps backwards, only to trip over a thick stick.

The Spanish boy raced forward towards her to help her up, but Rosslyn flinched as his hand brushed against her arm. Noticing this, the Spanish boy backed away, staring at her with his big dark brown eyes.

"¿Está herida?" He asked with a concerned look upon his face, his hand still slightly outstretched to Rosslyn, who was eyeing him warily.

She reached into her the pocket of her skirt* and pulled out a small dagger. Her daddy had given it to her to protect herself, proclaiming that it was small enough for her and not easily noticeable by others.

At the sight of the dagger, the Spanish boy backed away, putting up his hands in defense.

"No te preocupes , no voy a hacerte daño." He quickly turned out his pockets, letting a few gold coins and a strange-looking rock fall to the ground, to show her that he was unarmed.

Rosslyn craned her neck to see if he might be carrying a sword, but noticed that there was no metal to be seen at his side. Still unsure of his intentions, she lowered the dagger, eliciting a bright smile from the Spanish boy.

"Puedes confiar en mí." The boy placed a hand to his heart, grinning like a mad man. Rosslyn thought momentarily that perhaps he wasn't all there in the head and that's how he'd wandered on to her land. She really had no idea what he was saying, it all sound like gibberish to her.

"Mi nombre es Luis de Fernandez. ¿Cómo te llamas?"

Rosslyn wasn't sure, but she assumed that he was introducing himself. Luis de Fernandez sounded like a name – a Spanish name for sure. With a look of apprehension, she pointed at him and asked, "Luis?"

"Si," Luis responded quite enthusiastically. "Luis," he pointed to himself and then back to her, "¿y tú?"

Rosslyn again had to make an assumption. "Rosslyn Antonia Grace Kirkland," was her quiet response.

Luis drew closer to her at this, shouting out her name happily, "Rosalyn Antonia Grace Kirkland! Usted es español, si?"

Confused, Georgia shook her head at whatever it was he had asked and thought to point out that he'd said her name wrong, "Not Rosalyn, Rosslyn."

"Si," Luis responded, "Rosalyn." He was now pointing at her again.

So she'd gotten his name, but Rosslyn still had no idea why this Luis had wandered upon English land. If someone found out, well, he'd be killed. And as much as she disliked Spain for being mean to her Uncle England, Rosslyn didn't want to see anyone die unnecessarily. With hand motions, she tried to tell him to leave. But this, of course, did not work well.

"Qué?" Luis was the one looking confused now. He probably thought she was having some sort of fit. Again, Rosslyn sighed, but Luis grinned, bent down to her height, and grabbed her hands in his. This made her jump and she tried to pull away, but he had a strong grip and she didn't want to break her doll tucked underneath her arm.

Luis pulled her hands towards his chest. "Yo soy Florida." He then pushed his hands back towards Rosslyn, and gave a little nod of his head forwards as if to say "now you".

Florida? Rosslyn stared closely at him. It definitely sounded as if he had just told her that he was Florida. Her daddy had stressed the matter of not telling anyone about being the representative of a colony. But if this Luis was Florida, then it was okay for her to tell him she was Georgia, right?

Following Luis', Rosslyn responded, "I'm Georgia."

"Georgia," Luis repeated, nodding to himself. "Ya me lo imaginaba." It seemed he was more talking to himself than her now. But he still held her hands in his, so Rosslyn predicted that he was not yet done talking. And soon enough, there was that mad man smile upon his face again, and that gibberish Spanish came pouring from his lips, "Es un placer conocerle!"

"Rosslyn!"

A shout in the distance caught the attention of both Rosslyn and Luis. Their eyes traveled in the direction from which it was coming. Rosslyn knew the voice belonged to her daddy, and quickly tried to push Luis' hands away, shouting, "Go! Hurry! Go now! Go!"

Luis looked confused, but must have understood to an extent because he did let go and move away to hide among the weeds and flowers a little distance away from Rosslyn. He moved just in time too, because Ian, Rosslyn's daddy, was now coming into sight.

He stopped a few feet away from the little girl, a pipe hanging loosely from his mouth. "Let's go, bairnie, Arthur's arrivin' soon." He said this reluctantly, as if he dreaded the very moment Arthur would arrive.

But Rosslyn gave a little shout and jump, running to her dad, all but forgetting about Luis, until she was a good distance away. Then she stopped, turning back to see if he was still hiding in the weeds and flowers. He wasn't. Her daddy called for her to keep up, so she turned back around, letting the strange Spanish boy Luis who was apparently Florida slip into the back of her mind for now.

* * *

**Florida was first discovered on March 3, 1513 by Juan Ponce de Leon, effectively making the Florida OC the oldest state. It was also the place in which the first humans in the Americas lived. So, yeah, Florida is an oldie. **

***Back then, the bottom of a dress was called the skirt. **

**Spanish Translations**

**¿Está herida? = Are you hurt?**

**No te preocupes , no voy a hacerte daño. = Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you.**

**Puedes confiar en mí. = You can trust me. **

**Mi nombre es Luis de Fernandez. ¿Cómo te llamas? = My name is Luis de Fernandez. What is your name?**

**¿y tú? = And you?**

**Usted es español, si? = You are Spanish, yes?**

**Qué? = What?**

**Yo soy Florida. = I'm Florida.**

**Ya me lo imaginaba. = I thought so.**

**Es un placer conocerle! = It's a pleasure to meet you!**


	3. Lingua

**Here is another story featuring Luis (Florida) and Rosslyn (Georgia). It's more of an extension of the previous one-shot, really. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

"And then, Mary, Uncle Arthur said that I was his favorite niece!" The honey-sweet voice of a little strawberry blonde-headed child was carried along with the wind, making the ears of close by white-tailed deer raise in apprehension. The humans hunted them and so human noises scared them, but hearing only the voice and no footsteps, they went back to munching on some grass, assured that they would not become food today.

An oak leaf, floating carelessly through the air, landed on the child's head, which went unnoticed. "Only daddy said I was Uncle Arthur's only niece, so I had to be his favorite." The child combed the golden hair of the doll with delicate little finger tips. "Oh!" Her fingers stopped moving as she paused. Something important that she had been waiting to share with Mary came back to her at this moment. "I meant to tell you sooner Mary," she brought the doll up to her eye level, "but I forgot. Mr. Oglethorpe (_You remember him, right, Mary?)_ taught me some Spanish words. He wasn't curious at all as to why I wanted to know! Do you want to hear?"

She cleared her throat, much in the way she'd seen her Uncle Arthur do it when he wanted to say something important. "Hola, soy un amigo." Surprisingly, she managed to pronounce it exactly as Mr. Oglethorpe had, and grinned happily to herself at this accomplishment.

"No, es 'Hola, soy una amiga'." A voice called from behind her, the same Spanish voice she remembered from two weeks ago. She quickly turned around to be greeted by the madman grin of the Spanish boy. Luis, she reminded herself, was his name.

Luis was pointing at himself again. Rosslyn thought to herself that he rather enjoyed doing that. "Mi un amigo," and now he pointed at Rosslyn, "you una amiga." It had sounded very odd to hear him speak English, even if it was only one word. Obviously, she had not been the only one to inquire about foreign languages.

"Ahora probarlo," he opened his palms towards her, gesturing for her to 'try' something. But Rosslyn did not understand and so, she used the only other word Mr. Oglethorpe had taught her. It was a very good word, useful in situations such as this.

"Qué?" It came out sounding like the 'kay' part of 'okay', which sounded so very odd coming from her mouth, though she'd been practicing for days now.

She watched Luis now, who had his hand placed underneath his chin, pacing back in forth in front of her. It was quite amusing and reminded her of the stuffy old men that governed her colony whenever they were trying to find a solution to something very troubling.

Luis suddenly turned back to her, the hand gone from his chin, and now standing perfectly still. It seemed he had found a solution to his troubling matter. "Girl," he said this tentatively, pointing at Rosslyn, who slowly responded by nodding her head to confirm that she was indeed a girl. "Ni – no, boy," and he pointed at himself, to which Rosslyn again nodded her head.

"You," he pointed back at Rosslyn (_Rosslyn was getting rather tired of all this pointing herself_), "amiga." To this, Rosslyn raised her eyebrows in confusion. She was an 'amiga'? He had said the word earlier. It sounded like a disease. "Amiga," he continued, "girl. Girl es amiga."

Girl es amiga? Excluding the fact that she had no idea what 'es' mean, Rosslyn could only assume that 'amiga' was the way to say 'girl' in Spanish. At least, she thought so.

"Boy es amigo." Luis said this quicker, not explaining slowly like with the girl to 'amiga' thing. Obviously, he assumed Rosslyn was a quick learner. She wished he didn't. This whole Spanish deal was hard, even more so without a proper teacher.

"So," she looked up into the eager face of Luis, "Hola, soy un amigo for you." She pointed at Luis, who nodded at her. Good heavens, now she was doing the pointing thing. She _almost_ wished she knew Spanish so that they could a stop to this senselessness. That's what her Uncle Arthur would call it for sure. "But it's, 'Hola, soy una amiga' for me." Here she pointed at herself, receiving a vigorous nod from Luis, along with shouts of 'Si'. Rosslyn now knew that 'Si' meant 'yes', thanks to this little language exercise she and Luis had just gone through.

A hand touched the top of her head shortly, and she just barely caught Luis' tan hand retracting towards him. He was fast, she decided, maybe even faster than her – she wouldn't allow that. Curiously, she watched as he twirled an oak leaf between his fingers, recognizing that he must have grabbed it from her head. She often found leaves in her hair once she'd gotten home. Her Uncle Rhys would pick them out carefully, commenting quietly, in that gentle voice of his, how much she was like her daddy in this manner. He – her daddy – Uncle Rhys said, would come home covered in all things imaginable and their mother would do for him what he – Rhys – did for Rosslyn.

"You," Luis again caught her attention with his use of English, "Voy a casarme contigo." He cupped her hands with his, studying her face for a reaction. Rosslyn found this to be a bit too awkward and close for her. Females and males were not supposed to be in such close proximity with each other (_even as children, but they were both much more than children, really_), were they? "¿Qué es lo que?¿Quieres casarte conmigo?"

Not knowing what would be an appropriate response to these questions – questions she could not understand – Rosslyn simply nodded. This earned her a squeezing hug from the Spaniard and rosy cheeks as a reaction to the hug. Awkwardly, the two continued a routine for the rest of the day; Luis hugging her, Rosslyn pushing him away, and then a good hour or two trying to interpret one another's language.

* * *

**Luis corrected Rosslyn, because she used the masculine form instead of feminine. Don't forget those masculine and feminine forms, folks! I want some guesses as to what Rosslyn unknowingly agreed to that made Luis hug her, okay? ;D**

**James Oglethorpe was a British general, philanthropist, Member of Parliament, and founder of the colony of Georgia. He was a huge humanitarian and particularly concerned with the living conditions of sailors and debtors in London prisons. So Oglethorpe (and fellow members of a committee) started petitioning in 1930 for the colony of Georgia to be founded as a home for the "worthy poor". Ultimately, few debtors (the "worthy poor") ended up in Georgia. The first colonists included many Scots (the reason I chose Scotland as Georgia's father) whose pioneering skills greatly assisted the colony. **

**Not to be forgotten, many of Georgia's new settlers also consisted of poor English tradesmen and artisans and religious refugees from Switzerland, France and Germany, as well as a number of Jewish refugees. And Oglethorpe negotiated with the Yamacraw tribe for land (he and the chief became great friends) for land, instead of just taking it. Slavery in Georgia? It was banned, originally, thanks to Oglethorpe. I could go on about this fantastic human being, but I don't want to get too boring, so I'll stop now.**


End file.
